


Soul Marked

by Ramenlover



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Multi, sort of..., soul mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramenlover/pseuds/Ramenlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are meant for something great. Something unbelievably glorious.<br/>But to achieve that purpose they would need power, more power than a single life time could offer. So, they were born, hundreds of them, into the human race. They were given a single goal:<br/>To be reborn.<br/>As the eons passed, most died, unable to perform the necessary task to be reincarnated into the next life. But not all, a handful remain, their power slowly increasing with each new life.<br/>Sometimes things go wrong, though. And when two of these beings become dangerously obsessed, it could spell the end for them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> For my dear Assassin
> 
> Also, first multi-chapter fic. Yaaaay!  
> I don't know how often I'll be able to update it as I have school and work as well as my own original stories to write. But! I shall try my best.  
> Any and all feedback will be ridiculously helpful!

“Please!” the girl whispered, eyes wide and terrified, breath reduced to short panicking gasps.

“Hush now,” the boy murmured, dark blue eyes glittering in the semi-darkness of the alley. “Hush now, it will be alright.” His lips curved in a smile as he reached out a hand to cover her mouth, silencing her. For a moment, she seemed calm then she saw it. The soft shine of half-light on metal. A long, thin blade played about his fingers. Eyes widening, she screamed into his palm, struggling and flailing. But his legs pinned her against the wall. “Fare well,” he chuckled, raising the blade. “May we never meet again.”

Blood spurted from her slashed throat. Barely able to contain his joy, he bit his lip and pressed his marked arm against the tide of red seeping down her skin. Eyes closed, he let out a small gasp of pleasure, feeling the bright energy of her soul seeping out through her blood. It wiped away the mark as though it had never been there.

His immortality was restored.

“No!”

Eyelids fluttering open, he turned to see a certain red eyed somebody staring at him with horror. “Too late,” he crooned, stroking the dead girl’s face beside him. “Looks like it is another draw.” His smile widened. “A pity, I would like to have seen you die here. It appals me that I face the prospect of meeting you yet again. But, ah, beggars can never be choosers.” Leaping lightly to his feet, he sauntered over, still smiling. “Tell me,” he sang. “Did you enjoy the present I left at your house?”

“I should kill you,” the red eyed man growled. “For that, this and everything else. How was that necessary? I had already touched his soul, why kill him?”

“ _Because_ you loved him,” blue eyes laughed. “You were still trying to steal my little dove away.” A glance at the crumpled girl earned a smirk from one and a look of sickening disgust from the other. “I knew I had to give just a little distraction while I rid myself of mortality for another life.” His smile widened. Practically bouncing with happiness, the blue eyed man sauntered passed. “You are rather too serious, you know,” he sighed. “I hope in your next life you learn to cheer up.” With that, he laughed and danced away. “Until next time, Red!”

Gritting his teeth, Red glared after him. “Until next time, Blue.”


	2. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mainly exposition.  
> I'm not sure yet how the story fits around the anime exactly, but for the moment it just follows the cannon timeline.  
> It may change... I'm don't know

 “Dammit,” Kagami Taiga grumbled to himself, scratching at the mark on his arm. It was a small thing, delicate and intricate, about the size of a five yen coin tucked into the crook of his elbow. Anyone who saw it would assume that it was a tattoo. However rather than paying for the thing, it had randomly appeared on December 20th. One moment nothing, then suddenly it was just… _there_.

What followed was one of the most painful, head splitting migraines he had ever experienced and a sudden tidal wave of information. Well, he said information but it was more accurately memories. Lots and lots of jumbled memories, cramming themselves into his head.

It caused severe mental fatigue and more headaches just to try to sort through it all. Consequently, he had tried his best to avoid doing anything like that and to distract himself as much as possible with basketball or running. But, over the months following, bits and pieces had sifted through, slotting into the empty parts of his mind that he had never realised needed filling. Memories that he shouldn’t have.

As far as he had been able to decipher from the jumble of strange new yet old memories, the mark on his arm was called the Brand of Mortality. And it meant that he wouldn’t be reincarnated.

Then there was the whole reincarnation thing. Before, he would have scoffed at the idea. But here they were. The memories of his past lives. From them, he’d been able to fully understand about three things:

  1.        He had been reincarnated many times
  2.        In order to be reincarnated again, he needed to find a certain person
  3.        He needed to do… _something_ with that person and make the mark disappear. Then he could live this life however he wished.



And that was really about it. Well, that and the general understanding that he wasn’t the only one. As he sat on the plane to Japan, he sighed and finally gave in fully to the teeming mess of memories in his head.

_He could remember being a child, dark skinned and black haired, splashing his feet in a river. His hand holding that of another boy. A boy with eyes the colour of the deep ocean._

Those eyes stayed the same. Always those eyes.

_He could remember seeing them glaring at him from a bruised face as a teenager brandished a broken sword at him. Yelling in some language he understood and yet, at the same time, didn’t recognise._

_Those eyes glittering from a smirking face, this time as a girl. Her long hair windswept and her white dress drenched in blood._

The same eyes, the same person. The cause of the feeling he wasn’t alone. There was another person like him, another person who was reincarnated. A person with dark, ocean eyes.

A killer.

The thought made him frown. Yes, this person, whoever they were, was not a friend. At least… not most of the time. There was the occasional glimpse of those eyes in the body of a young child, smiling and happy.

So maybe he was occasionally friends with this person, whoever they were, before his memories returned. It did seem to be how it worked. Their memories would return at the same time. Always a different, seemingly random date.

After that it was hard to really understand anything. It was as though the blue eyes of that person were clogging his mind, creating a barrier that prevented anything else from being comprehended.

Groaning, he knuckled his eyes. This was making his skull ache.

*

Aomine Daiki lay sprawled on the roof, staring up at the sky. It was dusk, the sun just edging toward the horizon. His head was buzzing as though full of bees. Once again, he tried, in vain, to sort through the memories. At first, it had been simple, almost delightful, to relive all those experiences from more times and places than he had ever dreamed of.

But then he’d told Satsuki.

He had doubted she would believe him. He had expected her to tell him he was crazy. What he had not anticipated was the look of hurt that flashed across her face. He had never even thought that her response would be, “You don’t remember _me_ , Blue?” Her voice had been so sulky and reproachful.

Sighing, he stretched out his hand before him and stared at his long fingers. He could remember those fingers covered in blood a hundred times over. Could recall the exact feel of dozens of different blades, the warmth of a person’s life blood spilling down his arm. He could describe in perfect detail the red eyes of a certain someone. Beyond that, though, nothing.

For hours he’d sat listening to Momoi as she recounted so many stories of their past lives. She explained to him dozens of things his own faulty memories refused to hint at. About how they had to touch a person’s soul to have the mark removed. How it was the soul of one very specific person in each new life.

“We all have different ways of doing it,” she had explained, voice still retaining the slight traces of disbelief. She couldn’t quite understand how he knew none of this. “But we all have to go about it in the same initial way. First, you have to find them. There’ll be several people who it might be. You need to get emotionally close to all of them. Only then will you be able to glimpse their soul. You’ll know when you find the right one.”

“What then?” he had asked, frowning with concentration.

“Then… well, I usually embrace them. I think Gold and Red would kiss them. Green rarely did the same thing twice. He’s always been capricious. Purple would carry them somewhere. You… You would kill them.” Sharply, she had looked up at him, pink eyes calculating, trying to see into his future. Trying to see what he would become. “Then of course, there’s Voice and Moderator. But they don’t usually interfere with us so I’m not sure what they’ll look like.”

Now, on the roof, he clenched his hand into a fist. A killer. Yes, he could imagine himself a killer. The memories certainly seemed to prove it. But that wasn’t what troubled him. What pressed concerns upon his mind was the amnesia. How much he just didn’t know or remember. He was certain it had something to do with the red eyed person.

Somehow, they had blocked his mind.

“We’ll need put an end to that,” he whispered. “I’ll find you… Red. And kill you myself.”


End file.
